Color Me Grey: Book One of the Alexis Stanton Chronicles by J.C. Phelps

about falling asleep in
your car,” I said.
    “ Not a big deal. Do you drink often?”
He asked.
    “ No. It gets me into trouble. If I had
been sober I could have avoided that fight all
together.”
    “ I see. Put some ice on that shoulder
and be at the office by 6:00 tomorrow morning.” And he hung up.
Great. I was too tired to even think about getting up at 6:00 in
the morning.
    I grabbed an ice pack out of my freezer and
pushed it to my shoulder. I winced and hoped he hadn't broken
anything. Other than the time Anthony hit me I had never been hit
before in a fight and I hoped I was never hit again. I was only a
little stronger than the average woman of my size but I was quick.
That was my greatest asset, my quickness. It gave me an advantage
because I could get out of the way before I got hit.
    Well, at least I didn’t have a black eye.
When I came home with the black eye that Anthony so graciously
bestowed upon me, my mother flipped. She was furious. When I walked
in the door she drew in a deep breath and in that Motherly
concerned voice said, “What happened? Are you okay? Did you get
into an accident? Where’s your car?”
    “ Anthony hit me.” That was all I was
able to get out before she was out the door. I guess she drove to
his dorm and when he opened the door she clocked him in the nose.
Then she told him, “There, now that aught to teach you to hit a
girl.” And with that she turned and walked away. I heard all of
this whispered behind my back everywhere I went. Mom never told me
about it and neither did Anthony.
    By the time she got home I had explained it
to my dad. I wouldn’t have told him but he caught me leaving and
asked what happened to my face. After I explained what happened he
said, “Well, I’m glad you broke his arm. A man that would hit a
woman unprovoked should be put down.” And by put down he didn’t
mean down to the ground he meant put down like when you have to
shoot your horse because it broke it’s leg.
    I sat on my couch flipping through pages of
the latest book that I had been reading but I just couldn’t
concentrate on it. I was dying to get over to the main house to
talk to Dad. If Colin knew Mr. White maybe my dad did too. Also, I
wanted to grill my Dad about his “job.”
    I got to thinking about that, I didn’t even
know where it was my dad went to when he went to work. He didn’t
hold a regular job with nine to five hours, Monday through Friday
either. He came and went on whatever day of the week it happened to
be. He spent most of his time in his office at home though. There
were times he was gone for a few weeks, but that happened less
frequently now.
    I collected myself up off the couch and
walked to the main house. I walked through the back yard to the
back door. The main house was a good distance from the guesthouse.
I could be having a rave at my place and the main house would be
oblivious to any goings on.
    I went in through the back door into the
kitchen/dining room. The house was mostly open and I could see
through the kitchen and the living room to the front door. There
were rooms to my right. The laundry room connected to the kitchen,
then under the staircase, leading to the second floor, was the main
bathroom. The second floor was nothing but bedrooms and bathrooms.
There was a hallway between the laundry room and main bathroom,
which lead to the other half of the house where I would find the
library and my dad’s office.
    My parents were nowhere to be seen. Mom was
probably working in her shop outside. She had recently gotten
herself some power tools and was currently into woodworking. Dad
was more than likely in his office.
    I walked through the hall toward the second
half of the house. The library was as large as the living room and
about a third of the kitchen. My dad’s office was nestled into the
remaining part of the house.
    I knocked on the door and Dad said,
“Yes?”
    I walked into his office. He was sitting at
his computer in his